TEMPLE OF GOD

"Hurry", said the man from his rickshaw seat,
"Else, we would be late for the Mangal Pooja".
His wife tugged nervously at the flowers,
She had gathered as an offering to the gods.
Her face was red with accusation,
Not just against the frail rickshaw puller,
But also against her husband,
"I told you not to hire this man,
He hardly has strength to pull,
Let alone pull with speed.
We shall have the curse of the gods
For being late for the Pooja".

Pic Courtesy: Allianz Knowledge Site

The City of Joy,
Mother Theresa's adopted city,
Was as unkind to the rickshaw puller,
As ever it used to be;
he could have been a slave under the British yoke.

Pot holes and filth on streets were not enough
To chastise the rickshaw puller;
It had rained heavily and hence,
He stood behind the pulling bar
In knee deep squalid water.
He had promised his family of three children
And an ailing wife, food,
After two days of starvation.
Their hope of meals, on the seat behind him,
Blasphemed him with all their might
For making them late for the prayers.

I saw the sweat on his muscles,
I saw the wetness of his brow
As he tried in vain to get the wheels
Out of the unseen ditch.
I thought how wretched was the man,
How cruel was life for him;
Could anything be worse?
And then,
And then, I looked at the couple on the seat.
Fuming and fretting,
Cursing and abusing,
Little did they know,
How close they really were,
To your temple, O God!

DURING OUR DAYS

One month out of the Navy and already I am using this hackneyed expression. Read on; it may just be different from the old-hat.

After wielding the stick at me for some time, one of my COs suddenly shifted to the carrot approach. “You are lucky”, he thundered, “I have made a list of my COs and believe you me, all of them were b------s of a very high order”. But surprisingly, instead of bemoaning, there was an air of wistfulness about him, as if his COs having been anything other than b------s would have been a letdown! How many times we have heard of these comparisons between the present and the good old days – our days? Is it only a natural instinct for us to somehow relate to those halcyon days of our youth or was there really a big difference?

The other day, a really dear friend came home to share the evening meal. The conversation drifted to the propensity of the senior hierarchy of the Navy to get entangled in trivial matters. I told him that I had seen the signs of this many years back. I recalled that whilst the Book of Reference on Seamanship laid down that a Petty Officer of the Watch would supervise lowering of sea-boats; in effect I have seen the Ship’s Commander personally involving himself in the evolution; and, in case there was to be a Commander who felt that his POOW was good enough, his CO would nudge him, “Number one, just go down and see everything is alright”! I also told him that we had anchored our ships in Bombay harbour as Acting Sub Lieutenants; and whether any CO of today would ever take that risk. My friend disagreed; lately he has taken to disagreements to appear more assertive and I granted him that. Then he went about saying that he knows of at least one Commanding Officer of a large ship who has permitted a Sub Lieutenant to bring the ship alongside.

Now that is something! Despite all his disagreements this friend is a good soul and in this case he had a relevant point – we are often too judgmental of the actions and perceptions of those who joined the Navy after us.

A few years back in the US Naval Institute Proceedings (USNIPs) I read an article titled ‘Fish Rot from the Head’ (Major General J.D. Lynch, Jr., U.S. Marine Corps (Retired) (Feb 1995). The crux of the argument was that whilst lamenting the decline in the professional ethics and morality of the junior officers we should do a little soul-searching and conclude that the senior lot is also responsible for the rot; indeed more than the juniors. Thus General Lynch concludes, “The best way to motivating and leading our young – rather than to merely criticise - is to set a living example of professional standards and moral courage of the highest order.”

The commendable leadership and courage displayed by the young officers during the Kargil conflict, against almost impossible odds, prompted the Commandant of Indian Military Academy to say, “Their bravery and sacrifices can be compared with those of Shahid Bhagat Singh and Shivaji”. Admiral Nadkarni reminded us in a post – conflict article in The Indian Express, of the “indisputable courage of our jawans and the leadership displayed by the officer corps. Hence, if our young officers have it in them to prove their worth in battle, the litmus test, why do we have this bias that they lack the values we had during our days? And yet, we often admit that the intake level of the present era men and women joining armed forces is much inferior than in our days. Isn’t it an admission of the sense of commitment of the present lot who have to climb steeper to reach the same heights or standards as were seen during our days?

Every era is modern in its own time. To compare the values of one with the other without a debate about the circumstances, constraints and opportunities may not be objective. I recall the period of my first CO as an officer. The ceremonial involved in his arrival on board and departure were such that all work, not only on the upper decks of the ship but also in the dockyard in vicinity, used to come to a standstill. A battery of men used to receive and see him off, including men for carrying his briefcase and keeping the car door open. The prestige and powers enjoyed by a Lieutenant Commander at that time were more than those enjoyed by a Commodore of today. A signal made by the Commanding Officer of a ship used to be respected by the shore authorities even when made for shore power supply or shore telephones.

Nowadays, irrespective of periodic and forceful reminders that the tail should not wag the dog, the ships are very nearly on their own, with their staff going from pillar to post to be able to meet deadlines. Authorities ashore find it more convenient to do the policing job, sending a plethora of do’s and don’ts on such wide ranging topics as ’care and maintenance of diesel alternators’ to ‘correct procedures and norms for expenditure through non-public funds’ to ‘parking instructions’. It is not my case that these subjects are not important. But if a great deal of time and energy is to be spent in correcting the perceived mistakes and proclivities of lower formations and personnel, it would leave very little time and inclination to assist in finding solutions to problems that ships and personnel are facing more than during our days.

“We never made such stupid mistakes” may not be the correct argument. It would be akin to a father shouting at his son for poor marks, only to discover that the Report card being shown was his own of his school days!

‘Every officer or sailor above a Seaman’s rank is a leader’; we never get tired of saying. But we conveniently forget that every leader requires some free space around him to be able to demonstrate and exercise his leadership. How many times have we let a Petty Officer to lead on his own or a Commanding Officer or Director to exercise his powers without keeping the headquarters posted (a euphemism for seeking prior approval). Should it be the argument that in the bygone era men could be trusted more because they had proved to be worthy of trust, the older generation would still have to share the blame for not having developed adequate trust in their subordinates.

We are good at issuing instructions on every conceivable subject – a sort of broadcast method of communications (no reply needed or expected). However, confidence, trust and values cannot be promoted by issuing tons of instructions. Let us examine the oft-repeated injunction to the youngsters not to do anything that may sully the good name of the Navy. Here too, a modicum of objective reflection would bring home the point that there are more oldies that have dragged the Navy into media and courts for promotions and appointments than the youngsters. Senior officers who had navy running in their veins only the other day, stridently air the ills of the Navy as soon as they miss their promotion or are posted at a non-choice stations or appointments.

The young officer of today does not look at the Navy with the same awe and optimism as his predecessor used to do. The never ending austerity measures, the ever diminishing free space, the intense and 24/7 security measures, and the perceived loss of dignity and prestige (especially in comparison to his civilian counterparts) are constantly tugging at his consciousness whilst we want to remind him of our times. It is all very well to assume the ostrich pose or to be always suspicious of his intentions, morals, ethics and professionalism or to keep reminding him of our lofty traditions and enviable heritage. But, it would be better to do something to change the reality – his reality, that is – and not the reality during our days where we continue to live even during these days.

SEVENTY-EIGHT NOT OUT

A few days back, on the fifteenth of March to be exact, my mother became seventy-eight years old. She has been a widow since my father died of an unfortunate jeep accident on First of May in the year Nineteen Hundred Eighty Four. She is a very simple person; some may call her ordinary. She is still the greatest person that I have come across. Greatest and the most beautiful.

She was in her teens, indeed only seventeen, when my father married her. She became a mother when, at the age of nineteen, she gave birth to my elder sister Mona. During those days girls married early so that later they would not become a burden on their parents. I have heard the story of her betrothal several times. It began when my Nanaji (grandfather on my maternal side; everyone in the family called him Pitaji) went to Ropar where my Bapuji (grandfather on my paternal side) lived with my grandmother, whom we all called Bebeji. His mission was to affiance his second daughter, my mother, with my father’s elder brother. However, this elder brother was to go to America for further education (since Bapuji was an officer and an intellectual, all his sons had taken after him and considered good education as the primary aim of life) and hence did not want to be encumbered with a newly wedded wife just prior to his departure. Pitaji was to return home empty headed but on an impulse my father said that he was ready for marriage! Marriages are made in heaven and both families accepted it.

My father, just like his brothers, was a self made man and had all the attributes of self made men: diligence, fierce pride, boastfulness, over confidence, and a proclivity to look down on anyone (the softies) who leaned on anyone for success including parents and relatives. The sobriquet ‘Officer’ was taken rather seriously in his family. All throughout his life my dad had utter disdain for those who indulged in un-officer like conduct. My sister and I grew up with my father taunting the ‘Lalas’ (the business people) who, my dad made us believe, would do anything for making a fast buck; even sell their souls.

My father was not yet an officer when my mother was married to him. He was still studying for his master’s degree in agriculture. He was posted as an inspector in the horticulture department in Kandaghat, a town where my mother stays nowadays, all by herself, in a large house. Kandaghat and the surrounding areas were under PEPSU (Patiala and Eastern Punjab State Union) at that time. Later, in 1956, when the re-organisation of Punjab and Himachal took place, this area became a part of Himachal and my father decided to join Himachal Government Horticulture Department. Parochialism in our country had always been alive (before and after independence). In later years, a Punjabi Sikh having decided to settle in Himachal was not taken very kindly by those who called themselves indigenous Himachalis. In the two decades before my father’s death all sorts of plots were laid to stop my father from reaching the highest in the state horticulture department. Himachal welcomed people from states in the Hindi belt, but, Punjabis were looked at with contrived antagonism.

However, having been posted to look after a government owned orchard in Kandaghat was bliss at that time. My father often said that he was the raja of the place. For a grand sum of fifty rupees a month he could take as many fruits (stone fruits such as plums, apricots, and peaches) and vegetables as possible. To the reality of this good life my dad sometimes added the fiction of his boastful claims. So one day when he had some cronies from Punjab and they had the usual drinks and meat pickle (my dad hunted with the twelve inch double barrel gun that earlier belonged to his father; later it was passed on to me after my dad’s death) my dad started with his reality with fiction concoction, “Life is really good around here”, he boasted, “I get all the fruits and vegetables and three litres of milk everyday.” My mother, at this point, corrected him whilst still cooking in the kitchen, “Tin liter nahin ji. Thuanoo galti lag rahi hai. Sade tanh do hi anda hai (Not three litres. You are mistaken. We get only two). Dad was enraged. After the guests left he took her to task for making him lose face in front of his college friends. It came out that my mother had genuine concern that the milkman might have been cheating them; supplying only two litres of milk a day but asking her husband to pay for three. My dad learnt the hard way never to lie to her or in her presence.

I heard about another incident when my mother reached Ropar after her marriage, that is, at her in-laws house. It must have been strange and awkward for a girl of seventeen to find herself in totally unfamiliar environment. To top it, as was the custom during those days, she had to keep ghunghat and not look up. So when she was taken for her first movie in an open air theatre it was in that posture that she found her way to a bench with her husband and other elders around her. One of the elderly ladies made her get up and sit again as, in her veiled condition, she had sat with her back to the screen!

When Pitaji’s father (my great grandfather from maternal side) was made to migrate from what is now Pakistan he had to give up a flourishing bicycle business. I saw a picture of my mother at the time of the partition. She was dressed like a man and wore a turban in order to avoid being molested. I thought that the precaution was a sham since the turban had made my mother look even more beautiful than she looked in her other pictures that I had seen.

Pitaji’s family settled in Urapur, a small village almost equidistant from Nawanshahr and Ludhiana in Punjab. They built a really huge mansion with brick and lime and until I finished my schooling this house was the only pucca mansion of the village and was called ‘haveli’. It had a large hall at the entrance with a punkah that was pulled on both sides with ropes by menials to provide air to the gathering. It was here that my great grandfather and later grandfather used to have durbar for the villagers (both of them headed the Panchayats during their times, initially by nomination but later through open elections). There was a large framed picture of my great grandfather in this hall. In the later years, when this hall was more or less unused, this picture was removed to the hall on the first floor, which was being used by the family as a sitting cum drawing room. It was here that a Murphy radio set was kept on a platform at a height. During my primary schooling we went for our vacations to Urapur and I remember listening to Binaca Geet Mala on this radio. For a number of weeks the number one song used to be: ‘haal kaisa hai janab ka’ and later ‘zindagi bhar nahin bhoolegi woh barsaat ki raat’. I remember how Amin Sayani used to work up the ladder to the top song for which a bugle used to play and announce its top position; the excitement used to reach a crescendo both in his voice and with all his listeners.

Most of my school vacations were spent here in this haveli. In later years one full wing of the haveli had been rented out and Pitaji and family had an L shaped wing to themselves. Other than the hall the ground floor had store rooms in which shakker, gur and grains used to be kept as also utensils for larger parties such as langar. On the first floor there was a large verandah and rooms built on three sides of it. The veranda had a hand operated water pump on one side. It was on this pump that I once tried to catch a sparrow with my bare hands by slowly tip-toeing up to it. Probably I would have succeeded but little did I knew that the entire family watched with bated breath and could not resist laughing at my clumsy end effort, actually demanding of the sparrow to come into the crook of my hand. During those days I could get hurt easily especially with my failures. So, later that night, when I slept with my mother on a manji (a rope woven cot) on the kuchcha kotha (roof-top covered with soil; which was watered in the evening to make it cool) I asked her how to catch a sparrow. She pointed to the room at the end of the kotha where the manjis used to be stored at that time. When I asked her how, she told me that I would think of a way.

So, next day I went to the room on the top floor. I found many sparrows there. I started closing the two doors and the windows with their chains. Almost all the sparrows flew out except one. The chained doors and windows had small gaps but not enough for this lone sparrow to fly out. The first stage of success had been achieved. Now I turned to the task of actually catching this sparrow rather than just encage it in a 10ft by 8ft by 8ft room. After initial flurry of flying around the room the sparrow sat at the end of a standing manji. I approached it. Just when I was within a few feet of it, it flew again. I let it fly until it sat at the sill of a window. I approached it and then when I neared it, it flew again. Aha, with this I had found my way! I continuously ran after the sparrow so that it would never sit anywhere or rest. Both of us kept going round and round. When it would go higher towards the ceiling, I would shake the bamboo (with a broom at its end) kept there and keep the sparrow from slowing down or resting. I do not know how long it went on. We did not have watches those days and my estimate of time would be coloured by my own frustration and fatigue. Anyway, the happy ending was when the sparrow slowly fell out of sheer exhaustion and I picked it up.

Its belly was warm and it still fluttered; but I was not going to let go of my prize. I brought it down to show to the family. I am sure they would have totally forgotten about my failed attempt to catch a sparrow the previous day. I am not sure whether they understood how I had caught that one; perhaps they thought that it had already fallen somewhere and I picked it up. But, I think my mother understood. She went about doing her work in the kitchen but I saw that momentary glint in her eyes. In later years, after my father died in a jeep accident, and both the other sparrows had flown (my sister had married an Army officer and my younger brother immigrated to the United States) my mother and I worked tirelessly to preserve our place in Kandaghat, which we have named ‘Whispering Winds’. The burden of never ending problems that we faced would have made anyone give up. But I remembered the lesson of the sparrow: if you are too tired to fly, you lose your independence, you can be enslaved! I do not think my mother required the lesson of the sparrow; she is the one who devised it for me. At the age of seventy-eight, she still does all her work at home by herself. No one is going to catch her sitting down and doing nothing!

Pitaji’s family was fairly well off; first through business and then through agriculture. However, dad and his family had to struggle due to their pursuit of knowledge. My mother adjusted to it really well. She sold off many of her things including jewellery to pay for his education. And then finally, my dad became an officer. Officers during those days commanded a lot of respect and were beyond reproach. But they did not have too much of money. They were still better off than officers of today who neither have money nor respect.

Gradually, I have seen a change coming about in our community and nation, that is, the steady rise of the business community, investors, industrialists and entrepreneurs. Lately, this has accounted for India’s spectacular GDP growth. In comparison, the decline of the prestige and status of the government officer, despite all Pay Commissions, has been near total. The sure index of it is the answer to the question, “If you had a choice, who would you like your daughter to be married to?” Government officers, other than bureaucrats are well lower down the choice-list. Pitaji married his daughter in my father’s family due to status. I am not sure if he would do it today. All of my mother’s sisters and other relatives are far richer than us. My father had seen it coming. Just prior to his retirement he set up a small scale mushroom industry so as to close the gap with the other relatives. But, then, before he could succeed he died of an accident. My mother and I had to somehow repay the bank loans; I even sold off a plot of land my father had gifted me on becoming an officer in the Indian Navy.

My mother went through all this without complaining and with fortitude. Whenever we had a bad situation she reminded us that we had gone through worse situations and were still alive and kicking. She did not have the education of my father but I am sure she has far more common sense. Her simplicity allowed her to solve most problems through grit and determination.

Despite my father’s infamous anger (he was a perfectionist and always wanted everyone to do the right things; he did never spare himself too), I would venture to say that ours was a happy family with him being the head. Unlike his brothers who were ambitious and hence neglected their families, dad was a family man. Indeed, there was never any occasion that I remember that he did not take all of us with him wherever he went. It is another thing that he soon forgot that we were holidaying and would suddenly ask Mona or me about our performance in the school just at a time when we would be ready to savour the enjoyment of dipping our feet in a stream or plucking apples from a tree. That would start his favourite chain of harangue, the end point of which invariably was that nations can only do well only if they have good mothers. “Give me great mothers and I will give you a great nation”; he claimed that Napoleon had said (even to this day I have no proof whether Napoleon said that or not; but, as with all his quotes, the force of his own authority always overwhelmed that of the original or fictitious speaker, in this case Napoleon). At this juncture my mother would cringe with resignation at the familiar twist of the proceedings which always made her the person responsible for any wrong that anyone in the family had committed or was at the verge of committing! His oft repeated refrain was, “Bachche bigadh hi nahin sakde si je manh ne pains layian hundiyan (children would not have turned rogue if their mother had taken pains (to improve them))".

The modern child would never be able to imagine the extent of the badness of his children that dad was bemoaning about! It would be something as earthshaking as me getting three marks less than hundred in mathematics or Mona doing the unimaginable blunder of buying a song book rather than Praag or Chandamama (two famous children’s periodicals of our time) that we were allowed to get!

In Dharamsala (Himachal) when both Mona and I joined the College after our schooling, there was no let up in dad terrorizing us! So in the evenings when we would hear his Monga (a German jeep) turning into our colony we would quickly take postures at our study tables. But dad would get us, at least me, nevertheless. He would suddenly discuss some world news in my presence and would gauge my ignorance when I would fumble to connect to it!

My mother went through all this without ever berating us in front of dad. In private she would tell us with all the sincerity at her command, “Thuyade daddy theek keh rahe hun. Jina jayeda padhoge unhe hi layak banoge. Pher apne apne ghara wich khush rahoge (Your dad tells you right. The more you study the more intelligent you will be. And then you will be in your own families and will be happy)”.

Another curious hobby that dad had was to invite all and sundry to our house for dinners and other meals without ever consulting my mother. Mostly such invitations would be ad libbed at the last minute. Irrespective of our tight situation dad always expected the guest (s) to be treated “royally”! Should mom ever do the unthinkable of not presenting the guest with the best in the house (for example she might, at times, want to keep the latest mithai (Indian sweets) for a later day) dad would sense it during the meal and ask for it in front of the guest, thus deeply embarrassing her.

Dad was a very good man at heart, very honest and totally sincere to his job. He was very jovial and never kept any rancour with him overnight. Once he had taken out his anger, on the spot, for all practical purposes the matter was closed as far as he was concerned. I remember this incident when our driver Kuldip earned my dad’s ire for not having checked POL of the vehicle before the journey. The result was that we were delayed and put to considerable inconvenience. Throughout the remaining journey my dad kept taking out his steam on him. So, by the time he dropped us back at Whispering Winds, Kuldip was in tears. His having been ex-Army had given dad added ammunition to kill two birds with one stone; my dad had felt that only the mentally retarded joined the armed forces (“je koi parhan likhan wich theek hove than fauj kyun join kare” (anyone who is good in studies has no need to join the armed forces). After dropping us, Kuldip asked my dad’s permission to go and then dad let go nice and proper at him for having contemplated leaving without having his dinner, which invariably used to given to him at home! That night Kuldip had the fastest dinner ever!

After a few years of my becoming a navy officer, when I visited Whispering Winds on leave, my father invited me to have a drink with him on the roof top (I am especially in love with this spot since it offers an enchnting view of the hills and of the Ghaghar rivulet between the East and West hills (ghat). When the moon rises on the hill across it is one of the most breathtaking sights that I have seen, especially if it is full or nearly full). Initially I was as wary of having a drink with him as of my younger son Arun in having me as a friend on Facebook. My earlier experience of having invited him for a drink on board INS Himgiri, whence I got my watch-keeping certificate, had left me shaken (dad had seen the JOM – Junior Officers Mess that we stayed in and wanted me to immediately leave the navy rather than to “continue living in a pig-sty”. But dad appeared to be in a fine mood and hence I consented. As the evening and the drinks progressed, dad became more and more mellowed and then he told me many things about my mother. Many of these are in this article. Others had to do with how he and all of us were fortunate indeed to have her in the family.

It has been twenty-six years since dad died but my mom recalls many of these things that my dad told me. She was not on the roof-top when my father and I had our evening drinks but most often than not she heard and saw things through telepathy. I always suspected that my mother has super-natural powers. To start with I heard about her sleep-walking when she was at Pitaji’s house as a young girl. Then, in Dharamshala, once I was studying at an unearthly hour of 3 AM. It takes time to build up concentration for studying and in those initial twenty minutes or so my mind was drifting. One of the ideas that occurred to me was that I had to study and if only I would get a glass of hot milk (we were not allowed to have tea or coffee during those days!) I could really concentrate. It was eerie when my door opened and there stood my mother with a glass of milk. There is no way she could have found out that I was studying since my mom’s and dad’s room was at a distance; much less that she could have guessed that I could do with a glass of milk; even though my parents were early risers it would be another two and half hours before they would get up.

After my father died, my mother lives by herself in Whispering Winds. Most often than not there is no one around. At nights it is rather scary with nary a sound. And yet she is never scared. I asked her once how could she manage it. She said there are two people who are always with her: God and my father. No one has heard her but I believe she often talks with my father.

Many years back, when I was posted at Delhi, on one Saturday we decided to give my mother a surprise by driving up to Kandaghat; the cell phone had not yet made its appearance and we had not informed her by any other means. We reached at lunch time and found that the dining table had been set for five (my mother cooks only for herself and hence was not expected to cook for four of us as a matter of routine). She explained that she had a notion that we would be home for lunch. I had made a mental note of it many years back that no one could surprise my mother.

And yet, my father’s accidental death surprised us all including my mother. We were brought up to believe in the essential goodness of all people and hence it took us a long time to adjust to the spurious world post his death. Dad had a great circle of friends and colleagues who swore by him and were ready to do anything for him! Many of them were in high posts. “Kaka” they consoled me with deepest sincerity, “This must be a great shock to you and your mother. Don’t ever hesitate to call us if there is anything you require to be sorted out”. They addressed my mother too likewise assuring her that she would always be like a sister. Fortunately, dad had always taught us not to lean on anyone and we soon realized that dad was right. Gradually, we realized that people, other than my mom’s sisters and their siblings, had many important things to do than to help us get back on our feet. It is true that none of them told us no for anything but the weaning of interest in us was obvious and perhaps natural. This was still better than my own friends and colleagues at the CNW and Karanja who extolled my virtues endlessly at my farewell (from the Indian Navy after thirty-seven years) and said if I required anything they would be only too pleased to provide it; and who, at the first opportunity (within six days of retirement) declared me persona non grata. Let alone help I was not even to pass through the area! Camaraderie? Well, I did not have to die for my family to learn the hard way.

My dad died on First of May in 1984, Tuesday. It was the darkest day of our lives and it was a very dark night (moon totally obscured). Lyn (in the ninth month of pregnancy), JP (my younger brother) and I were escorted from Mumbai by my mom’s brother (A Group Captain who was posted there). We reached in the wee hours of next day: flight to Delhi and taxi thereafter. Because of Punjab situation no taxi driver was prepared to take us from Delhi and that too at night. So, at Delhi, Mamaji borrowed a friend’s uniform and sat thus in the front seat so that the taxi won’t be attacked.

My mother, a widow at fifty three, sat at the floor with other mourners. She had always looked young (besides the reason of her innate toughness, anyone married to my father would be young for the simple reason that dad won’t have given her time to grow old!) but, on that day-break, even after having wept the entire preceding day and night, she looked younger still and vulnerable. On the night of first May, dad and mom were to catch a train from Kalka to Mumbai, to be with us during the last stages of Lyn’s pregnancy. But, here were we consoling and condoling her.

Thirteenth of May, the day of Bhog (remembrance prayers) after my dad’s funeral was a Sunday. When everyone left after the Bhog, mom knew that Lyn would deliver anytime and had requested her elder sister to leave a car with a driver. Next day we drove to Shimla and Arjun our elder son was born. It was nearly full moon night! I’d thought that having Arjun at home would divert my mother’s mind from the tragedy and I was correct. There was so much to be done for him. Lyn and I as new parents knew nothing. What is more, our planning had gone for a toss on the First of May. So, it was left for my mom to be a grandmother, mother and midwife.

They say when the going gets tough, the tough get going; I found in my mother the kind of toughness and resolve that I would like to emulate. There were mainly three types of problems that we faced: one the normal bureaucratic hassles that all in India face (even our courts are tilted to favour the guilty by prolonging the proceedings so much that law-abiding citizens face constant jeering, frustration and cumbersomeness; so much so that there is a popular (and infamous) saying that courts are only for the rogues); two, because of my mother being a woman and alone (Indians make the right noises about respecting women and comparing them to goddesses but would take advantage of them at first opportunity); and three, because of parochialism brought out earlier.

So, within no times, our neighbours, encroached on her land, broke through our boundary fence and got us entangled in a number of legal cases. They regularly pronounce threats to me and her, both veiled and direct. An example of these is, “Ravi ji (Ji is an Indian sobriquet of respect but also jeeringly used; for example, “S Ramji bade badmash nikle” (S Ramji was a rogue of the highest order)) aap to chhuti ke baad chale jayoge per mummy ji to akele hi rahenge”. (Ravi ji, you will go back (to your duty station after the leave but your mother will have to stay alone) I have tried my utmost with the local bureaucracy, police and state officials but their oft heard refrain is, “How long can she be given protection? (Not that she has ever been given) It is better that she lives with you.

When I joined the Navy and we used to be deployed in the Gulf of Kuchh (near the IMB between India and Pakistan) we often used to catch Pakistan Television on our antenna. I remember having seen a TV play titled ‘Aurat Ka Koi Ghar Nahin’ (A Woman does not have a Home). How true it turned out for my mother after she became a widow! She often has the water supply to the house disconnected, electricity disruptions, her personal servant (s) threatened by our neighbours to run away, face the indignity of waiting the whole day outside the court (whereat even a lady judge does not give her the priority of being old and widow and alone) and havoc caused by either nature or man.

My mother keeps a very neat and functional house. The one incident that made me feel that she must be really great and extraordinary happened a few years back. She went for her rounds of the orchard and fell and had a head injury. She crawled back to the house bleeding and fast losing consciousness. Instead of going straight to the telephone, she stopped herself outside the house, beckoned her servant Nirmala and asked her to bring the phone unit out and then called for an ambulance! When the ambulance came she had nearly lost complete unconsciousness. When I asked her why she did not go straight inside the house and wasted precious moments in calling Nirmala to fetch the phone unit outside with a long cord, her reply was, “Kaka main sochya ke khoon bahut nikal reha si, ate andar gand pai janda” (son, I thought I was bleeding a lot and it would have spoiled the inside of the house if I were to enter)!

This was not the only time when she surprised me with her innate feelings for others. I have seen how often she thinks of those who have less than us, who are sicker, less able, and in more unfortunate situations. Whilst my heart would be grieving for her situation she would tell me about those who “really” require help! These often include her detractors and she bemoans that God should have been kinder to them than to revisit sickness, accident or bad – luck upon them. I remember the times when we would go hill climbing for picnics or for visiting people. These would be tiring indeed, especially at her age; but, on return, she would worry about how tired all of us would be.

Mom forgets nasty things done to her easily. But, she never forgets the good things. If she ever borrows anything or money from anyone, it would keep bothering her until she returns it.

A few years back she got both her knees operated upon. The doctor had said that these would heal fast and she would be on her feet fast. In the meantime my younger brother had invited her to visit him in Washington and he had done the air bookings much in advance. So, when it came out that her knees were nowhere near healing (these took another six months) she went to Washington on a wheel-chair. At the Washington airport, the security personnel, being paranoid about all kinds of checks post 9/11, wanted to remove her bandages to see if she was safe to be allowed into the country. I would have smarted under the indignity and needlessness of the procedure especially after passing through metal detectors. But my mother’s reaction was, “Kaka, main tanh wheel chair te si; bechare security waliyan nu kaafi kam karna pya” (son, I was on wheel-chair but poor security staff had to do a lot of work). How could mom be a security threat to anyone is difficult for me to comprehend?

When we were small, dad was posted in a town called Mandi in Himachal. On Sundays dad used to take us to an orchard in Bhangrotu about fourteen kilometers away. Mona and I used to travel by a vehicle whilst dad and mom and their friends used to bicycle. My mother would be dressed in a salwar kameez with her dupatta (a head scarf) tied on her waist and pony tails tied in ribbons. On the hilly road most of them would give up cycling half the way up on the climbs. Not my mother; she would continue cycling up with the cycle-chain making screeching sounds under the strain of the climb. And then, as all of us would watch in open admiration, she would be over yet another hillock. I remember her looking back with glee and encouragement to all the others that it could be done, it was possible.

Yes, Mom, now I know that it can be done, it is possible. We are not going to be deterred by the steepness of the climbs. We shall gleefully look back after conquering each one. You are seventy-eight not out and you will be not out until the end of the match!

ALL IS NOT WELL

Recently, when we watched the movie ‘3 Idiots’, we were entranced by the song ‘All Is Well’. We not only liked the song but also identified with its theme. We do believe that things and the situation we are in would improve and we won’t have to worry too much if we assumed ‘All Is Well’. Reminds me of the time when we were kids and we used to get scared of ghosts we used to hide our faces in the quilt; if we could not see the ghost, how could he see us!

In our country, we did not actually have to see the movie to sing ‘All is Well’. Ask our politicians, for example. Farmers may be committing suicide on a regular basis in their constituencies; people may be dying of hunger; there may be no water, electricity, medical help, and epidemics may have hit the villages, but, the politician would tell you and indeed sing like Aamir Khan, “Ahl izh bell, whai are dey kum planning?” Last year when the news came that India is now 144th in the world in human growth index, our politicians again sang ‘Ahl izh bell’.

Arun Shourie once wrote, “One sure way for evil to last or survive is for good men to do nothing about it.” And, how do we decide to do nothing about it? Well, by assuming all is well. In the vernacular it is roughly translated into ‘chalta hai’. We’d naturally identify with the song since by doing nothing we want the situation to resolve by itself or better still by divine intervention.

Here is a short list of things where we feel all is well:

· Our countrymen are happy, well fed and clothed and contented lot.
· Our roads, particularly our highways, are in good condition.
· We are very close to being number one in the field of sports.
· Our education system is world class.
· Our cities are clean, hygienic and really liveable.
· The corruption in the country will sort out by itself.
· Our country is free of natural disasters and in case one strikes our local government would take care of those who struggle to survive.
· Our judicial system delivers correctly and with urgency each and every time.
· Our teachers, doctors, engineers, industrialists are the committed lot who always think of the country.
· People fall head over heels to pay taxes.
· People at large detest crime and criminals and such people are singled out. Indeed, we have no difficulty in separating the law abiding from the criminal.
· Our trains and air services are always on time and in case once in a while these get late, people are not put to inconvenience because of a could-not-care-less administration.
· Our religious leaders and beliefs promote amity amongst people.
· We care for those who sacrifice their life for the country, that is, the armed forces personnel.

I think I will stop here. Suffice it to say that when we sing, “Chachu all is well’ it merely reflects a fantasy we have of utopian India - a dream world. Therefore, the first step towards the journey to make a better world is to assume that all is not well. A chalta hai, populist attitude is a good box-office formula. But, it must not be taken as a national policy!

Negativity? Well, in this case, the ‘Ahl izh bell’ statement has a negative outcome! People die and continue to live in poverty. Whereas ‘Ahl izh naut bell’ will certainly have a positive harvest depending upon our resolve and efforts to set it right.

So next time you hear ‘Ahl izh bell’, don’t just clap your hands and go unconcerned. All is really not well and we need to do something about it.

LEADERSHIP IN THE NAVY – PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE

We Revere Our Heroes

1. ‘Band of Brothers’; is that what we expect our youth to become in tomorrow’s battlefield? Nelson used this phrase on a number of occasions to describe the remarkably close and friendly relationship that existed between him and the captains who served under his command at the Battle of the Nile on 1 August 1798. The phrase also connotes a personalised or ‘collegiate’ style of leadership that Nelson personified, whence doctrine was often substituted by dinner table conferences just prior to battle. Nelson established himself as one of Britain’s most successful fighting admirals. He established a personal rapport not only with his captains but with his men too, through particular attention to their welfare, training and trust. His ‘band of brothers’ knew instinctively what was required of them. On the day of his funeral, according to Collingwood, there were tears in the eyes of ordinary seamen. Nelson loved them and they loved him. He trained his people by example, persuasion and sometimes sterner measures.

2. Even though his personal life was never exemplary, his men followed his other sterling qualities and largely ignored his aberrations. As described by Admiral Arun Prakash in his essay ‘Nelson – The Quintessential Naval Hero’, “While history has, on the whole been kind to Nelson, many biographers have not glossed over his frailties. Pages have been written about his ambitious nature, his thirst for public acclaim, his greed for prize money and his vanity about his own accomplishments”.

3. In the modern era, I quote an incident from ‘The Golden Book of Delhi’ by Commander Hugh Gantzer, on the occasion of the decommissioning of this illustrious ship. The annual Pulling Regatta was in progress and ships vied for the coveted Cock – a symbol of not only rowing prowess but also of the spirit and indeed the general efficiency of the ships. In a particular race Delhi’s boat won by many boat lengths. The euphoria about the victory was short lived when it was found that the crew had taken part in the wrong category race. It came out that unless the same crew took part in the next race, of the correct category, Delhi may not win the Cock. Here was a crew totally fatigued, profusely sweating and frustrated that their best was wasted in the wrong race. No one could have expected of them to take part in the next race let alone win. It was a lost race even before it started. But then the Commanding Officer of Delhi, a legendary figure by the name of Captain RL Pereira, stepped into the boat and talked to his men. Suddenly despair changed into hope and resolve, exhausted faces gave way to grit, and tired muscles had new life in them. The men not only took part in the race but won.

4. Both these are fine examples of Personalised or Direct style of leadership. As one of the Commanding Officers of yore declared, more with a sense of pride and responsibility than with arrogance, “Hum God to nahin but God se kam bhi nahin” (I am not God, but, am not less than Him). When we joined the Navy, John Winton’s ‘Rules on Seeing the Captain’ were prevalent and never questioned: ‘Rule 1: The Captain is always right; Rule 2: If the Captain is wrong, Rule 1 applies’.

5. Are these examples then of timeless traits of leadership that should be unquestioningly inculcated during the initial training and formative years by emulation? How many Nelsons and Perieras have we cloned so far by this process? What about those who do not become these legendary figures, and that includes the vast majority, but are still required to lead? More significantly, are these styles of leadership relevant now and for tomorrow’s Navy? If yes, what are these time tested qualities and how do we ensure their inculcation? If no, or partially no, how else to groom the youth?


We Believe in Timeless Traits of Leadership

6. Let us start with timeless traits of leadership. Even though Kautilya’s Arthshastra, a 4th century BC treatise, is largely perceived as a set of principles for Economic Administration for a king to preserve the integrity of the state and sustain it for the future, there are fine lessons in leadership too. Kautilya stressed on the importance of such core values as knowledge, skills and attitude. Some of these would be relevant even today: Character (Shilavan), Thinking Ability (Pragna), Communication Skills (Vangmi), Vision (Prabhu Shakti), Mission (Mantra Shakti), Concentration (Drudhachitta) and Watchful Alertness (Daksha).

7. These were followed by Dharma and Karma and Maryada or Izzat during the days of Mahabharata as the essential qualities of a Kshatriya. These have been translated in our times as: The well being of your nation and service comes first; the well being of your men comes next; and your own well being and comfort always comes the last. And, Service with Honour.

8. The essential traits of a good leader have evolved over a period of time. There may be differences of opinion about some of them or their relative importance but by and large the following are accepted as desirable traits:

• Bearing
• Courage
• Decisiveness
• Dependability
• Endurance
• Enthusiasm
• Initiative
• Integrity
• Judgment
• Justice
• Knowledge
• Loyalty
• Tact
• Unselfishness

9. Some have considered the following additions, in modern times, but, in many ways these are present in the original list:

• Assertiveness
• Candour
• Commitment
• Competence
• Confidence
• Coolness
• Creativity
• Empathy/Compassion
• Flexibility
• Humility
• Improvement
• Maturity
• Self-discipline
• Sense of humour
• Will

10. I am not going to take all but only a few to illustrate a point:

(a) Bearing. This demands the highest standards in carriage, appearance, and personal conduct at all times. By and large we don’t have any problem with carriage and appearance. But we do have some reservation about the changing ethos of personal conduct. Emulating icons such as Nelson, sometimes means that all is forgiven as long as one is a great leader, eg, Bill Clinton in modern times.

(b) Courage. This is the mental quality that recognizes fear of danger or criticism, but enables a man to proceed in the face of it with calmness and firmness. Let us see what Clausewitz has to say: “If the mind is to emerge unscathed from this relentless struggle with the unforeseen, two qualities are indispensable. Firstly, an intellect, which even in the darkest hour, retains some glimmerings of a light which leads to the truth; and secondly, courage to follow this faint light wherever it leads.” How does one acquire this trait, if one does not have this all along? Like the Army ad says, “Have you got it in you?”

(c) Decisiveness and Initiative. The ability to make decisions promptly and to announce them in a clear, forceful manner should be backed with the ability to take action in the absence of orders. A sub trait of these traits is the Propensity to Take Risks. The good old tenet ‘nothing ventured, nothing won’ is as true today as it was yesterday. Battles and wars are not won by all those who are very adept at naval ops but since all situations cannot be foreseen, we require not only knowledge or net-centric warriors but also prudent risk takers. Is it the fear of failure that lets a leader take the relatively safe middle path?

(d) Combative Spirit. I shall place Combative Spirit very high in the traits that I would want to inculcate in the youth joining armed forces. It is the main trait that differentiates a military leader from a corporate manager. It is a combination of many of the traits given above. In the present atmosphere of vying to improve Inter Personal Relations, especially with seniors, Combative Spirit has become almost non-existent. Physical courage, as given above, is easy to inculcate but there are not adequate examples, in our times, of combative spirit – the ability to meet challenges squarely, with calmness, without fear of consequences.


But, We Do Have a Changed Scenario

11. We have this undeniable fascination with tradition and heritage. After the Kargil War, this strong fascination translated into a series of articles by senior retired officers about crisis of leadership or otherwise. An article by Admiral Nadkarni, however, brought out that the young officers had vindicated our system of imparting values and in battle had displayed traits better than (expected) by the senior hierarchy.

12. Nevertheless, many far reaching changes have taken place in the environment. The Indian Navy’s ‘Strategic Guidance for Transformation’ acknowledges that the Indian Navy faces a fast-changing environment due to variety of factors, which include geo-politics/geo-economics, emerging technologies, rapidly evolving capabilities in our maritime neighbourhood, and, the changing role of the Armed Forces.

13. It would be naïve to assume that the grooming of our youth would be the same as hitherto. As brought out in the ‘Transformation’ document, “The demands of the 21st Century require that we become and remain First Class in the way we lead and manage the affairs within the Navy.” This requires, as brought out in the document, “Clear-headed leadership at all levels, adequate empowerment at senior and lower levels, flattening of the Navy’s internal bureaucracy, and adoption of technology-related ‘best practices’ from industry and/or the navies of other countries.”

14. As far as Personnel policies are concerned, amongst others, we need to revisit HRM in totality, encourage out-of-the-box thinking and reward intellectual inclinations, and a focussed approach towards professionalism, whilst simultaneously enhancing the attractiveness of a career in the Navy, by reviewing compensation and welfare packages and even preparing personnel for a ‘second-career’ beyond the Navy.

15. To give credit where it is due, the Navy has already started experiencing and working on many of these changes. Let us look at some of these. RMA is the readily discernible change but there are others too, which impinge on leadership in tomorrow’s battlefield. Here is a representative sample, and not exhaustive:

(a) There is a blurred distinction between peace and war. From Enemy Beyond, we have now Enemy Within; from well defined states of readiness leading to declaration of hostilities, we now have perpetual tension and alertness. In such a state, it is not uncommon for personnel to get frustrated and either commit suicide or shoot/berate their superiors or both.

(b) There is an explosion of information. As a result, the earlier adage of ‘you can fool some of the people some of the times’ has lost much of its relevance. Nowadays, even young officers have to reckon with an ever inquisitive media, which leave no stones unturned to break news even when none exists. Whilst some have misused the media to carry out campaigns of calumny with vested interests, there are other occasions when the aberrations of the armed forces personnel have been aired openly even when we would have wanted to keep them in wraps.

(c) Let us look at the prevalence of fast changing knowledge and skills. During earlier days, one could get away with some lack of knowledge and skills, as long as one possessed essential attributes of a leader. This is no longer the case. In the last US Presidential elections, the Republican candidate John McCain only had to air his not being Internet savvy and the media went to town bemoaning his potential incompetence to deal with increasingly significant matters of cyber security and privacy.

(d) Perhaps the biggest change in environment that has taken place as a result of the above two is that there is often no time to subject matters to careful deliberation (pause) and then decide. Leaders of tomorrow will have to take decisions on their feet, in fast changing situations, with an ability to quickly sift real intelligence from a heap of information.

(e) Today, we have many other roles of Armed Forces than merely combat. Although readiness for combat would always remain the absolute sine qua non of naval operations, we have to increasingly reckon with naval diplomacy, HADR, multinational peacekeeping ops and a plethora of other roles, wherein the military leader has to deal with many agencies, both governmental and non governmental.

(f) Joint operations are here to stay. However, the senior leadership has displayed a tendency to be assiduously guarding home turf. Military leaders of tomorrow will have to display larger accommodation and should be trained accordingly.

(g) In future battlefield we also have to deal with the nuclear factor. This requires assimilation of escalation matrix at various levels. A decisive blow to the enemy is to be laced with deliberate restraint, much more than it is to be in LIMO.

(h) The entry of women in the armed forces has brought about many changes in our leadership styles. It is not just that the media went to town with the (misunderstood?) remarks of an Army Vice Chief about women not being suited for combat duty, but, there are other questions such as whether the armed forces environment is safe for women? Does a lenient regimen pamper the ladies? Does this trigger rancour among male peers?

(j) Another reckonable factor is that the attractiveness of armed forces has taken a severe beating. It ranges from the youth of the country not valuing the President’s commission to officers declining the higher command courses. Never before in the past did we have armed forces personnel, even though retired, participating in a procession demanding better pay, perks and status, and also returning their medals.

(k) Last but not the least, there is a distinct decline in morals and ethics, and corruption having reached endemic proportions. Of course, we can blame it on the general lowering of standards in public life but gone are the days when the armed forces were immune to it. We often talked about Armed Forces being not just a noble profession but a way of life. We extolled the virtues of ‘An Officer and a Gentleman’, but, now there are an equal number of Booze Colonels and Medal Hopefuls through fake encounters.


And We Need to Do Something about It

16. Once again the list is only illustrative. The idea is to progress the argument that whilst there are timeless leadership traits, time has come to inculcate better suited leadership styles. The Indian Navy’s ‘Transformation’ document has this quote from Bishop G Bromley in the beginning, “Change is inevitable. The great question of our time is whether the change will be by consent or coercion.” Since a considerable percentage of leadership traits are emulated from the prevalent environment, let us see what the current impediments to inculcating leadership traits are and go about systemically correcting them.

17. Confusing Leadership Styles with Traits. We love to glorify personalised or direct leadership. We have this impression that a good leader must be seen to be taking charge of all situations. In recent past there was this senior officer who personally laid down norms for all occasions, which included even dress code and conduct in clubs and messes. The best books on everyday leadership characteristics, that I have read, are Maj Gen Aubrey Redwood’s ‘Follow Me’ series. He described the incident of his going by car and noticing the shabby haircut of a soldier. He was tempted to stop and correct the soldier and then it occurred to him that by doing so he would not only undermine the complete system of grooming but may also indicate wrong priorities. After all, what a senior officer says carries more weight than a junior.

18. Aversion to Other Types of Leadership. As opposed to Direct Leadership (Nelsonian), armed forces officers around the world have traditionally been averse to thinking about changing styles of leadership. Naval professionals had kept doctrine at arm’s length for fear that a binding set of principles might restrict their initiative and independence and hence their leadership style. Mahan said this of British naval officers: “To meet difficulties as they arise, instead of by foresight, to learn by hard experience rather than by reflection of premeditation are national traits.” We have to keep in mind that Direct leadership empowers just one person who gets overstressed to take all decisions, whereas organisational or institutional leadership empowers all personnel at various hierarchical levels. Organisational leadership is unobtrusive and less visible but, even more effective. In the Fleet, for example, with spread out operations in the future battlefield, the days of direct leadership of yore, through flag hoist or within LOS communication are over. The stress is already shifting from ‘where are you going?’ and ‘what are you doing?’ or ‘get back into line’, to more meaningful operations. Many a time when we expect our top hierarchy to display Strategic leadership, we see them engaged in pedestrian issues.

19. Preparing to Fight the Last War. Analysts often accuse Generals of ‘preparing to fight the last war’. The metaphor that comes to mind is that of a frog who tried to behave like a man. He stood on his hind legs and lifted his body up. In this manner his eyes were facing backwards. The terrain that he thus viewed looked familiar. Hence, he confidently marched into unknown territory with its newer dangers with the smugness that he had seen it all earlier.

20. Different Perceptions. The best way to groom the youth is to first know them, rather than at all times being judgmental of their motives. As brought out by Harper Lee in her inimitable book ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’, “The best way to know people is to step into their shoes and walk around in them. Most people are really nice when you finally see them”. We have often dismissed the youngsters with our perception that they don’t have the same values as we used to have during our days. For this, let us examine the Monkeys on a Tree Syndrome, with monkeys perched at various levels of the tree. When you observe from top, you see happy smiling faces; but, when you look up from lower levels, you see assholes. Hence, if we have to groom the youth, we have to stop seeing things from our point of view at all times and have to actually step down to their levels, understand and share their fears, anxieties, aspirations, dreams, biases and perceptions.

21. Zero Error Syndrome. This is translated into being worried not about tackling the situation but the aftermath of the situation. They say that ‘if you are not big enough to lose you are not big enough to win’. To change this perception requires a complete systemic change. Whilst over-exposure in media is always demanding of us to find and punish the guilty, we must be able to differentiate between an honest mistake and intentional or deliberate offences. In his farewell speech RAdm Kirpal Singh brought out that when he faced a BOI he was certain that he would make it to Flag rank because most Flag officers of his era had faced a CM or BOI. Today, with greater promotional prospects, we tend to write off an officer for even imagined offences.

22. Nothing Succeeds Like Success. It is the aspiration of every person who joins armed forces to become as senior as possible. He or she looks around and finds that the adage ‘everything is fair in love and war’ has been made into a way of life. In 2008 I attended a seminar on Terrorism. On the question as to why was it that Army’s Op Sadbhavna had failed to steer the youth of Kashmir away from terrorism, one of the panellists responded that most COs and their staff had translated Op Sadbhavna into a photo op and opportunity to project good image of themselves. Once in a while a case of fake encounters to win medal comes to light. However, in the formative years, the youth looks around and sees his seniors leaving no stone unturned to advance their careers. Thus, at a very early stage he learns that the report of an operation is even more important than operation itself and that he needs to be highly skilled in PPT even before assimilating bridgemanship. He also assimilates the stress on trivial that keeps his ship ticking.

23. Aversion to Out-of-Box Thinking. Out-of-Box thinking has become a popular catchword; but, when exactly do we want our youth to start thinking out-of-box. We are perfectly happy at uniformed personnel imbibing uniform or standard practices and look down on anyone whose cloning is not complete. Once again we must demonstrate that out-of-box thinking would not interfere with our personalised style of leadership. Empowerment at all levels would be the answer.

24. “Positive” Attitude. They say ‘the optimist invented the plane and the pessimist invented the parachute’. In our penchant to improve Inter Personal Relations, especially with those who matter, to be seen as a positive guy is these days more important than doing anything worthwhile. In such an atmosphere the Staff Officer is generally more successful than the Combat Officer, for the former has learnt how to be in good books of his seniors all the while. A Positive Attitude is actually a desirable trait. I only refer to what it has been translated into.


Conclusion

25. Preparing youth for tomorrow’s Navy cannot be left only to the Academy or the training institutions. It should be the systemic approach of the complete Navy. After all, the officer who joins the Navy today would be responsible for our operations tomorrow both in peace and at war. We have a tendency to find technological solutions to all our problems. However, it is the quality of leadership of this young officer, which would make a difference between success and failure.

26. Nelsononian Direct style of leadership was most suited for the era when getting out of line at the wrong moment would spell disaster. These days, we require personnel to think out-of-box, think joint, think fast, think other than war, and be Knowledge Warriors. We should, therefore, lay more stress on Organisational or Institutional Leadership, which is less obtrusive and more effective.

28. Every era is modern in its own times. Timeless Traits of Leadership have withstood the test of time but we need to be more adaptive of changes in our environment. Being constantly judgmental of the values of our youth is not the answer. Making an environment conducive to assimilation of these traits is the only pragmatic solution.